


The Glow

by Cornerofmadness



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: They should never have been friends, let alone anything more, but they give each other something they need.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Nico Stavros
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020, Prodigal Son Pride Bingo





	The Glow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cozy_coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** Not mine, Chris Fedak and Sam Sklaver owns it
> 
> **Notes:** written for the cozy_coffee in comment_fic for the prompt Any, any/any, first time trying a new kink, and for the PS trash pride bingo prompt of enemies to lovers.

He never imagined they’d be in this place. Malcolm never held any strong emotions against the man, but Nico had seen him as the enemy. Well, he could hardly blame Nico for that. He _had_ cut the guy’s hand off, even if it was to save his life. He’d seen the panic in Nico’s eyes when he and JT had gone to him for help with the pied-a-terre case but that hadn’t stopped Malcolm from going back. He’d been curious as to why Nico had decided to do a physical store for erotica items, things most people went online to buy anonymously. He’d hoped the young man hadn't thrown away his settlement cash but he seemed to be doing well. Of course, Nico already had a clientele and there was something to be said for the personal touch. Wearable gear was always better custom-made or at least fitted in the store so you didn’t have to waste time and money returning it if you got it online. Nico knew what his patrons were looking for and could guide them to what suited their needs best. Websites couldn’t do that.

After a time, and much hostility, Nico stopped reacting to him on an instinctual level and actually began to talk to him. Malcolm knew what had kept bringing him back to Nico and it wasn’t just curiosity. He had certain needs, ones that Colette Swanson had once found out about. It might have been what had completely torpedoed him with her but to her credit, she kept it to herself when she could have exposed him to the whole of Quantico. Some of them would have had a field day at his expense but they didn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom what Malcolm got from submission.

Malcolm knew all too well the heady mix of endorphins, enkephalins, oxytocin and other pain blocking hormones that gave the ‘runner’s high.’ They also made ‘sub space’ a place to fly, to let it all go. His mental health had suffered since returning to New York between his father, the embarrassment of being fired, the loss of his usual dom. Truthfully, he preferred woman in that role, trusting them more. In his eyes, they were more intuitive and perceptive, able to spot when he dropped into sub space and was unable to safe word it if he needed to. Nico should have been all the wrong person to pick. Their history was complicated, and he knew if the others found out, they might not approve. JT and Dani’s opinions of him mattered. Gil knew what he was about. He never said a word one way or the other about Malcolm’s life choices.

So, once he managed to convince Nico they weren’t destined to be enemies, that they might have something in common, they’d gone for coffee. Then drinks. A few weeks later things took a turn for the better. Now they were here about to try something new. It was easy finding a full-length mirror in his mother’s storage in the building’s basement and bring it up to the loft. Nico brought blacklights with him but hadn’t told Malcolm why.

“I know this is new,” he said, feathering kisses over Malcolm’s shoulders. “But I thought we could try it out.” Nico cinched up the last of the ropes binding Malcolm standing up. The ropes made a decorative diamond pattern. He soothed a piece of silk down over Malcolm’s torso, sensitizing his skin. Nico had allowed Malcolm his silk boxers as Malcolm preferred his sessions to be about head space and not sex. Arousal happened but it wasn’t his aim.

Nico left him standing there and flicked off the lights. In the pale light from the huge window by the bed, one he was mostly out of sight of because the last thing Malcolm wanted was to be videotaped or photographed from afar, Nico sauntered back slowly. He knew Malcolm hated to be left waiting, that it amped him up and made breaking him down that much more fun. Nico flipped on the blacklights and the ropes binding Malcolm fluoresced. 

Malcolm’s breath caught at the sight of his reflection. Nico nipped Malcolm’s Adam’s apple, drawing the silk across his skin again.

“You’re a work of art,” Nico breathed, in awe of his own handiwork.

“I am,” Malcolm whispered, regretting his prohibition of picture taking. This was beautiful, a pattern of glowing diamonds highlighting his skin. 

Nico kissed him, drawing something up Malcolm’s leg. He flourished it in front of Malcolm’s face, making his pulse quicken. The crop ended in a leather heart. It would sting but not put him in too much pain. Nico figured out before they had finished that first cup of coffee that Malcolm was a bit of a painslut but tonight he wanted Nico to go light.

The first strike of the leather heart made Malcolm grin. This was going to be so good. Nico knew his business. Malcolm had no doubt he’d be soaring on an endorphin high.

X X X

Malcolm curled up on the couch under a fuzzy blanket, part of his after-care regime. He cradled the tea Nico had given him. Nico stretched out on the couch with him, pulling Malcolm against his chest.

“You okay, Mal?” He ran a hand through Malcolm’s hair.

“Fantastic,” he murmured. Malcolm caught Nico’s hand, dropping a kiss into his palm before kissing his way around the scar he’d caused on Nico’s wrist.

Nico tightened his free arm around Malcolm. “Want to stay up for a while yet?”

He nodded. His skin tingled in all the best ways. He’d have heart shaped bruises but that was fine. He treasured them and the free-floating glory he was coming down from. The tension he carried around had melted away and for once, in a long time, Malcolm relaxed. Maybe he’d sleep. Maybe he wouldn’t dream. He could only hope.


End file.
